Indonesian chicken and cashew curry

An Indonesian chicken and cashew curry that will delight those who enjoy a little spiciness. Originally from Western Sumatra, the "wet" curry paste in this dish packs a punch, balanced by the citrus of lime and lemongrass, and the smoothness of coconut and cashews. Better still, it's quick to cook. Easily adapted for seafood or vegan versions.

Recipe ping-pong

This isn't a dish that I learned during distant travels, but in my backyard of London. Decades ago I chanced upon a new, small pan-Asian restaurant (before pan-Asian was "a thing") in one of those side streets near Charlotte Street before Fitzrovia was the trendy NoHo as which it reinvented itself about 10 years or so ago.

Back then, I was intrigued. The place had a minimal, contemporary look in stark contrast to the mish-mash of Asian bric-à-brac scattered around slightly claustrophobic interiors with as many tables crammed in as possible that you were more likely to encounter in the other Asian and world cuisine eateries drawn to this area over the preceding century.

Equally intriguing was that the menu too was fairly minimal with far fewer dishes than on the multipage menus in most restaurants in this area. And, it changed regularly. Better still, it was very reasonably priced.

It was run by an Australian chef, Russ, and his Indonesian wife, Annisa. They had met when he was working in a top hotel restaurant in Jakarta and spent years in the region, Russ in demand in top Western-style restaurants and Annisa equally in demand for her hotel and events managements skills. But, while the restaurateurs of South East Asia's booming luxury hotel industry wanted Russ for is ability to knock up a consummate soufflé or béarnaise sauce, his true passion was Asian cuisine, something he'd steadily been mastering on the side for years. So, they hatched a plan: Russ got a job in the kitchen of an up-and-coming London luxury hotel and, after a year or so of getting settled, they set up their own place.

I started out as a walk-in, became a regular and later a friend, especially once they learned about my childhood discovery of Asian cuisines and my father's passion for them. I spent a lot of time hanging out with them, swapping tales and recipes until, sadly, they made London poorer and Sydney richer by relocating to Russ' hometown after starting a family with a bang; twins. As Russ put it in his own inimitable way, "Ah, mate, we'll really miss London, but we just think that kids should be raised free-range."

This is one of the numerous recipes Russ and I swapped. And, I would always order it when it was on the menu. We'd play this game of "recipe ping-pong": I'd give him one of my recipes and then he would give me one of his, or vice versa. I remember this one particularly because on that occasion it was my turn to go first and I gave him my recipe for Durban prawn curry (including the homemade mother-in-law masala spice mix) and he gave me this recipe, one I was after for years. He just chuckled while sharing it: "Mate, you've really got ripped off. This one's a piece of piss. Even a kid could make it."

Of course, he was right: a kid could make it. But, its simplicity and speed is hardly a bad thing in today's busy world. And, besides, I don't care because it remains a favourite of mine.

Lu, lu, lu bumbu...

Like many dishes from South East Asia, and Indonesia more specifically, this dish kicks off with a kind of "wet" spice paste often referred to as a bumbu. It's a bit of a generic term used across the region that can refer to numerous things, a bit like the Italian word "pesto". Very much like the Italian term, it refers to a paste-like mix where the ingredients may vary, but the commonality is that it is whence flavours arise. And, yes, I am old enough to use the word "whence" without irony in a sentence...

In most cases (as is the case here), it's more a paste of the chunkier "fresh" flavouring ingredients that give it a "wet" nature while ground and whole spices are added to the pan at pretty much the same time without being diluted in this "wet" bumbu. Despite the apparent rambling, there is a point here: adding the dried ground and whole spices to this "wet" paste would both dilute their aroma and flavour. Hence, they are added separately.

Traditionally a bumbu is made using a pestle and mortar, worked into a very smooth paste, which you can do if you wish. I prefer it to be a little more "gritty" so tend to do it in a mini-chopper.

In terms of spiciness, I would describe this dish as "moderate" in the quantities in this recipe. But, it's all relative. For example, even before she was four, my wee girlie used to demand it almost every weekend. She insisted "have-a nae gilly curry" was her favourite, conflating it with the well-known Hebrew folk song that was a regular during their Friday kindergarten folk music singalong. I never once toned down the chillies and it never stopped her being on it like a piglet at the trough...

But, if you're not wild about spiciness in a dish, halve the number or red bird's eye and hot green chillies in the bumbu. Nothing else makes it "hot", so it's very easy to control.

Similarly, remember that this dish cooks down to being a lot thicker than many South East Asian "curries". In many ways, it's much more comparable with the thicker "gravies" of vaunted Indian curries compared with laksas or Thai curries. Thus, fairly plain rice is very good at cutting through the rather intense flavours and textures.

This version is for 2 to 3 diners. If you want to make it for 4, simply add additional chicken and slightly increase the vegetable content. You don't however, need to increase the quantity of spices or coconut milk.

3 top tips to get this recipe right:

• Traditionally, this dish is cooked with chicken thighs and legs on the bone (though with the skin removed), the local truism being that it adds to the flavour. You can certainly do this, especially if you know that you won't be freezing any portions. If, like me, you will be, I advise using boneless chicken. Chicken bones that have been frozen can splinter, especially if being defrosted and reheated in a microwave. I err on the side of caution.

• I'm using pre-roasted and salted cashew nuts. Sure, you can take the more traditional approach and toast raw cashews in a dry pan before adding them to the bumbu, but this seems like killing two birds with one stone. Simply add less salt in the seasoning stage.

• Before you worry if steamed/boiled rice might be a little bland, the dish is rich and layered. That's why very simple rice works best. Whether you add the crispy onions or not, is optional. I've never felt I was missing anything when I have not included them.

Shopping list

for the Indonesian chicken and cashew curry

• Approx. 450g of chicken in large pieces e.g. whole thighs, breast fillets, etc.

• 1 large sweet red pepper; sliced

• 1 green bell pepper; sliced vertically

• 1 tin (400g) coconut milk; full fat

• 2tbspns sunflower oil (or rapeseed oil)

• 1½ tbsns demerara sugar (or coconut sugar if available)

• 2 lemongrass stalks; whole, bruised

• 1 stick of cinnamon

• 3 green cardamom pods; half-crushed

• 2 black cardamon pods; crushed

• 2 whole star anise

• 2tspns ground coriander

• ½ tspn ground cumin

• ½ tspn ground turmeric

• ½ tspn ground nutmeg

• 1tspn tamarind paste

• salt and pepper to taste

• Water (approx. 250ml)

for the spice paste (bumbu)

• 3 echalion shallots; peeled and cut into large pieces

• 2 red bird's eye chillies, topped and tailed

• 1 or 2 green chillies; topped and tailed

• A thumb's length of fresh ginger; peeled

• Half a thumb's length of fresh galangal; peeled

• A generous handful of cashew nuts; roasted

• salt and pepper to taste

• 2tspns sunflower oil (or rapeseed oil); as needed

for the accompaniments and side dishes

• Steamed rice with crispy fried onions (optional)

• Keropok; tapioca or casava "crisps" with spices that are a nice side nibble

Cooking Method

the Indonesian chicken and cashew curry

1. Place the raw chicken into a suitable bowl. Grate the lime zest into the bowl. Squeeze the juice and pulp of the lime into the bowl and gently mix in. Season with salt and black pepper then place to one side

2. Make your bumbu paste (see below)

3. Heat the oil on a medium heat in a wok or pot with a lid. Add all of the dry spices except for the star anise and black cardamom. Stir in and sauté for a couple of minutes, until the aromas release. Add the red sweet pepper and the green bell pepper and stir in. Sauté for approx. 2mins

4. Push the ingredients to the side of the wok and increase the heat to medium-high. Throw in all of the bumbu, stirring almost constantly, adding a little additional oil if it appears to be sticking

5. As soon as the aromas from the bumbu are released, add all of the chicken and the contents of the bowl in which it has marinaded. Stir in and, turning the chicken with tongs, ensuring it is seared on all sides

6. Add the demerara sugar, and tamarind paste. Add approx. 1cup of boiling water and stir, ensuring the sugar dissolves. Reduce to a gentle simmer, and simmer for approx. 15mins, uncovered

7. Once the liquid has notably reduced, push the contents to the side. Add the star anise and black cardamom pods. As soon as the aroma releases, push the chicken back to the centre of the wok and pour in the coconut milk. Allow it to heat for 1min or so before stirring in

8. Reduce the heat so that the contents of the wok gently simmer. Reduce the heat, cover, and simmer for approx. 15mins, stirring occasionally

9. After 15mins, the sauce will have thickened. Season with salt and pepper. Cook for a minute longer, then remove from the heat and rest for a few minutes, covered

10. Plate and take to table with your preferred accompaniments and sides

the spice paste (bumbu)

1. Add all of the bumbu ingredients to a mini-chopper and chop into a rough paste

2. Lubricate with a little oil, as needed

3. Transfer to a dish in which you can store it in the fridge for about 30mins before removing to return to room temperature before cooking

4. This is one of those "wet" spice pastes where ingredients should remain somewhat separated. Thus, don't make it more than an hour before cooking

Alternatives

To make this dish vegan, follow the steps above, but where you would add the chicken, add only the lime juice, pulp and zest. Add tofu cubes or whole medium sized mushrooms just before you add the coconut milk in the recipe above, ensuring that you coat them fully in the sauce, sauteing for a couple of minutes before adding the coconut milk.

For pescatarian versions of this dish, it rather depends on what seafood. If going with raw sliced squid tubes or octopus—my two favourite options—pretty much follow the vegan version above, but only adding them about 5mins after adding the coconut milk. However, if opting for king prawns, add the raw prawns (whether shelled or not) only about 4mins before the dish is ready, shortly before you remove it from the heat.

Pairings

The only times I remember having this dish with wine was way back in the day at Russ and Annisa's restaurant. And, even back then, I told him that his Aussie and Kiwi sav blancs sucked at dealing with the power of this dish.

Russ got really offended, in particular about an Australian Sauvignon Blanc I had poopooed. "Mate, it's won load of awards!"

I was not phased. "Yes, dude, but to quote Jane Wyman about Gary Cooper, 'the biggest dick in Hollywood and no ass to push it.' Genau?"

Annisa laughed loudly when I turned up a couple of weeks later with a bottle of Château de Plaisance, L'Anjou Blanc (circa 1982)—it was still the "bad old days" when we did not break the boycott of South African products. Russ conceded: chenin is the go-to curry wine...mate.

Nonetheless, I have had this dish far more often with a cold beer or iced sparkling water with a little fresh lime juice than I ever have with wine.

Yes, of course you could always keep in the local thematic and go with something like Bintang or, indeed, channel colonial history with a Heineken—the Dutch company's brewery at Surabaya was famous in the region, its beer highly sought-after. But, I don't think you should get bent out of shape about it.

Basically any relatively "clean" beer—you don't want anything too perfumed or "flavoured" given the complexity of the dish—that tastes good anywhere between chilled and practically iced, is a good option. Think of it as the ideal as being a "palate cleanser" that doesn't require too much effort.